


A Bird and His Cage

by doctornemesis



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Light Bondage, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25909450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: “Come to find me before the end, huh? You’re a wanted man, you know?”“Are you offering me clemency, Doflamingo?”The resounding laughter that graced his ears lacked its usual underlying absurdness. His signature sunglasses and feathered travesty of a coat nowhere to be seen as he peered out over the short walkway overlooking the vast kingdom he’d seized years prior. A cacophony of sounds weaved its way through the night air; lights glittering like stars on palm trees.The pool below looked more than welcoming.“You know I only offer punishment, darling.”
Relationships: Crocodile/Donquixote Doflamingo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 119





	A Bird and His Cage

**Author's Note:**

> This has been rattling around in my brain for months. I enjoy the dynamics between these two and finally mustered up the willpower to do something with it. Please enjoy the fruit of my sleep-deprived labor!

“Come to find me before the end, huh? You’re a wanted man, you know?”

“Are you offering me clemency, Doflamingo?”

The resounding laughter that graced his ears lacked its usual underlying absurdness. His signature sunglasses and feathered travesty of a coat nowhere to be seen as he peered out over the short walkway overlooking the vast kingdom he’d seized years prior. A cacophony of sounds weaved its way through the night air; lights glittering like stars on palm trees.

The pool below looked more than welcoming. 

“You know I only offer punishment, darling.” 

“I must have missed the memo, then.”

A single string slid snug across his neck, tilting his head back somewhat as Doflamingo loomed over him, a crooked grin twisting his lips. “On the contrary, you know it best,” he said, that horrendous laugh of his sending a chill coursing down through Crocodile’s spine.

Crocodile didn’t hesitate to raise an unlit cigar to pursed lips, ignoring just one of the many games Doflamingo liked to play. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said, unsettled by the stillness of the night. No breeze to be found swaying through the trees. “Maybe I should leave.” 

The Royal Palace, the opulence of such things...it would come to an end, sooner rather than later. He’d been swept up by the new generation and spat out, and if Doflamingo didn’t think that the same could happen to him, he was a fool. A prideful one,at that. 

“You are my bird, and I am your cage,” Doflamingo murmured, adding more strings to key points across Crocodile’s body; the parts of him he knew all too well. 

The man knew all he needed to do was to shift into sand in order to escape. A fact that infuriated Doflamingo greatly. The prospect that what he might want slipping through his fingers frustrated him beyond belief, but you’d have to be able to peer into his eyes to understand just how much it truly rankled his feathers. 

“You’re a fool if you think you can keep me trapped here, and you know it,” he said.

Doflamingo took it upon himself to light Crocodile’s cigar, pocketing the lighter back into those ridiculous pants of his. Why Crocodile wasted his time with this man, he didn’t know, but a long history of chance meetings and old patterns kept them coming together every once in a while. He would not say that they were fond of each other, because they weren’t, but Doflamingo appeared keen on hunting him down whenever it struck his fancy. 

After escaping Impel Down and the battle at Marineford, Crocodile felt compelled to enter the New World ahead of his original schedule. He came to Dressrosa not expecting much of anything from the other man, but Doflamingo captured both his gaze as well as his audience, and refused to let him out of his sight. A bird, a cage. 

Doflamingo couldn’t keep him, couldn’t hold him prisoner unless he bound him with seastone, but the man liked to try anyway. If he were truly desperate, he could find the means to, but Doflamingo appeared keen on wanting Crocodile to stay of his own volition. To willingly bind himself to the other man.

What an absolute farce.

“We should go up to my office,” he offered. “We can talk freely there, and I have plenty of brandy to keep you happy.”

Crocodile arched a defiant brow at that. “Who said I came here to talk?” he asked. 

Doflamingo laughed again, his fingers twisting in order to bring Crocodile closer to him. “Humor me,” he said, the severity of his tone leaving no room for argument.

Crocodile would argue anyway, but there’s a strange quality to Doflamingo’s eyes that made him refrain from doing so. An annoyed rush of breath through flared nostrils was his only confirmation to such childish demands. Doflamingo didn’t deserve anymore than that, but the towering figure didn’t _need_ anymore than that. 

  
  
  


The palace proved quiet, and almost eerily so, only their footsteps could be heard echoing down through the long hallway before they reached the grand staircase. Normally, the noise proved much more grating on Crocodile’s nerves. Between the Donquixote crew themselves and the Corrida Colosseum not too far away, Dressrosa was always lively.

A city full of passion bordering on violence. 

“Where are your crew?” he asked, more to fill in the silence than to actually know. 

“Out.”

Crocodile hummed to himself then, adjusting his coat as the pair reached the top of the stairwell. “Did you know I was coming, Doflamingo?” he asked.

Doflamingo looked down at him, but more than that, he looked right _through_ him. “I can’t reveal all my secrets to you now can I, darling?” he said, the twist to his lips almost unnatural. “I have to keep some intrigue to keep you coming back for more.” 

The pet name peeved Crocodile on almost every level, but Doflamingo typically used it when he found himself in a rather amorous mood. The man proved unstable in both mood and temper, committing violence for violence’s sake as though that were truly his first and only lover. Doflamingo rarely ever instrumented a plan, but when he wanted something, he would work endlessly in order to obtain it. The first time they’d crossed paths as fellow Shichibukai, Crocodile knew their fates would become intertwined from there on after, and through no choice of his own. However, he’d arrived at Doflamingo’s residence of his own means, and he’d accepted his company knowing full well where that might lead them.

He vehemently told himself that it was only to warn the other man of times to come. 

The door had barely clicked shut into place when he found himself shoved roughly up against it, Doflamingo making quick work of his coat with short, harsh movements that did more for him than he’d ever care to admit out loud. The man had a propensity for biting, and his teeth were blunt save those sharp canines of his sinking into the sides of Crocodile’s neck. He grunted, biting down on his tongue to keep from crying out as long, slender fingers made quick work of his dress shirt.

“You vicious cur,” he bit, chastising the other man for such brute force.

“ _Fufufu_ , don’t pretend like you hate it.” 

Unfortunately for him, Crocodile didn’t hate it. He just hated the man doing it to him. 

“I want you in my bed,” Doflamingo added, his lips pressed up against the shell of Crocodile’s ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. 

“I thought you wanted to _talk_.” 

Doflamingo chuckled at that, a low sound that seeped in through Crocodile’s skin, striking along each and every nerve seemingly against his will. Doflamingo’s office connected to his bedchambers, and before the other man could say anything further on the matter, he was being dragged to where the bastard wanted him the most. Where Crocodile wanted to be. 

At least for the night.

“You _petulant_ child,” he added, his bare skin flush against silk sheets. 

Doflamingo’s form was an insurmountable weight looming over top of him, a large knee poised in between spread thighs. His mouth was ravenous for Crocodile’s own, his tongue carnivorous for a taste of him. Whenever the other man got like this it left Crocodile struggling to breathe, his entire being became constricted by Doflamingo’s inherent wanting of him.

This borderline obsession of his... 

  
  
  


Doflamingo removed the golden hook from its place, setting it carefully aside, he placed a kiss to the pulse point located along Crocodile’s inner wrist. The display made his face heat up and his stomach churn, uncomfortable with such tender acts of apparent affection. It distracted him from the cuff Doflamingo placed on his opposing wrist, clicking it into place. The drain to his power was immediate, and any ideas of shifting to sand were foolhardy now at best. He shouldn’t have felt as stunned as he truly did in that moment, but that bastard had never used seastone in any of their previous trysts...not even at their most vicious.

“What—”

“I told you that you were mine,” he purred before Crocodile could even ask, but there lingered no teasing in his tone, no nonsensical laughter behind strange words, “and I _meant_ it.”

“You absolute _bastard_ ,” he gritted out, moving to sit up before he was cast back down by a series of strings biting into his skin.

“Don’t be mad, darling,” Doflamingo said, stroking his hair and face almost tenderly, near absentmindedly. His breath hitched, the string at his throat pulling taut until he felt a drop or two of blood pooling down around his neck. “I think it’s only fair after you left me at Marineford like you did.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, but received no answer as Doflamingo pulled away to rid himself of his own constrictive clothing. 

When finished with that task, Doflamingo crawled back overtop of him, biting and kissing various points across his body. Crocodile’s brows furrowed, lips pursed the longer the other man paid attention to his chest—nipping and teasing incessantly. The sensation went straight to his groin, and even though he found himself on-guard about the whole ordeal, he couldn’t ignore the havoc Doflamingo was wreaking across his traitorous body. His cock was hard, heavy drops of pre-come dripping across his own tense stomach when Doflamingo took it in hand, stroking him as though he weren’t holding him against his will. He began to chuckle, those unsettling eyes of his fastened to Crocodile’s tortured expression the entire time. 

Crocodile didn’t know what he saw when he looked at him like that, but bared his teeth at the other man all the same. “You _damned_ flamingo,” he cursed, mouth dry as Doflamingo’s grip tightened considerably. He couldn’t move an inch, couldn’t even tilt his head to one side to get a better look at his current predicament. 

He bit back a low groan, but Doflamingo didn’t appreciate that level of restraint on his part. Doflamingo then resumed his attack on his neck and chest, rubbing his thumb along the slit of his cock. Crocodile’s hips jerked at a particularly rough bite to his right nipple, the invisible strings that crisscrossed over his body pricked his skin in warning. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, taking one of Crocodile’s ears in between his teeth, nipping playfully. “So still, so perfect.” 

Every intake of breath reminded him of just how constricted he was, Doflamingo having left him with absolutely no leeway just as intended. His body reacted to it, his cock painfully hard even though his mind raced with the utmost unpalatable thoughts about his current situation. If Doflamingo noticed, which he did, he decidedly ignored it in favor of soliciting contentious sounds tinged with absolute, disastrous pleasure on Crocodile’s part.

“What are you—” he choked on the question, Doflamingo’s mouth engulfing the head of his cock, the tip of his tongue pressed tightly against his slit. 

His hips bucked, once again drawing the wrath of those damned strings, the tinge of pain adding to the pleasure being lavished upon him by such a devilish tongue. Doflamingo got him nice and wet, easier to take the entirety of him into the hot, hot cavern of his mouth. The groan that fled from tight lips went far beyond his control, unable to hinder or stifle it with a desperate hand. 

“ _Fufufu_ ,” that damned laughter flooded the silence of the room beyond the ragged breathing Crocodile couldn’t dampen. “Look at you, so hard for me. I can’t get enough of you, darling. I’ll take _all_ of you.” 

His laughter tempered the severity of his words, but only barely. Crocodile, even in such a haze of lust and indignant rage, could understand that Doflamingo might take his life once finished with him. A suicide pack of sorts, maybe. Or, he would kill him so that he might remain his even in death—taken by none other than his own hands. 

Up close and personal just like his brother...

The thought flitted away once a slicked-up finger prodded at his entrance, rubbing incessantly against his rim, massaging down along his perineum—a well known weakness of his. His hips rocked up in want, his chest rising and falling as far as it could. His throat tightened with every hard swallow. 

“ _You_ ,” he grunted, eyes snapping shut at the sensations wracking throughout his body.

“Me?” Doflamingo asked, a shit eating grin plastered across his face, that ever piercing gaze staring Crocodile down in moments like these. “Yes, me. I’m the one doing this to you. The _only_ one to do this to you.” 

Crocodile moved to say something further, but lost the ability to speak when that ever seeking finger finally slid into him up to the second knuckle. He grunted again, it had been such a long time since he’d submitted himself to such an experience. He’d never entertained dalliances before this all started with Doflamingo, too busy trying to climb his way up to the top, plot and plan a complete takeover. He’d worked hard to shed his past, to make a name for himself, to prove his worth and his prowess. Why he’d allowed this complete bastard to take him, ravage him, open him up and _worship_ him, he didn’t quite know. 

Doflamingo didn’t waste time, adding a second finger to the mix. The burn that accompanied rendered a hiss from Crocodile, the stretch of scissoring fingers bringing a familiar sting. He enjoyed it, much to his chagrin, and that flamingo bastard knew it, abused it. The other man began a brutal pace, fingeringfucking him with ruthless abandon, knowing what it did to Crocodile, how he’d twist and turn—torn between pleasure and what was left of his dignity. He tightened around those long, dexterous fingers, trying to get more. _Needing_ more.

He could come just from this, three fingers full, rubbing endlessly up against his prostate. He wanted to spread his legs further, needed to spread them further, needed Doflamingo closer—invading his personal space even more than what he already was. Looking down upon him as he used his fingers to make him jerk and twist without the command of his strings. He knew what he needed to do, loathed what it was that he needed to do in order to get what he wanted from this flashy sociopath he willingly bedded. The thought made him laugh in despair, Doflamingo cocking an unimpressed eyebrow down at him, his fingers going still deep inside him.

The desperation clung to him like a second skin. He greatly needed Crocodile to understand something, but the idea of what that something was caused a coldness to spread throughout his chest. Fear clutching at him with a tight grip. 

“What’s so funny, hmm? I want in on the joke,” he commented, his tone oddly flat, void of any teasing. 

“I was just thinking about how fucking crazy you are,” he said, his voice gruff, uncomfortable from where Doflamingo’s fingers still held deep inside him, “and how fucking crazy I must be to willingly allow you to fuck me.”

Doflamingo threw his head back, a full laugh ripped free from deep within his chest that echoed throughout the room. That long tongue slid across his bottom lip, eyes settled on Crocodile stretched out underneath him, completely under his control save that mouth of his. Oh, that sharp mouth with such cruel words that he claimed he couldn’t live without. 

Dreamed of, even. 

The fingers of his free hand curled, and suddenly, Crocodile’s legs and hips were free to move, though his upper body remained pinned down to the mattress. The sudden freedom fled from his thoughts, those devious fingers inside him pumping in and out with a harsh, much welcomed, rhythm; making him a desperate, desperate mess. A shameful man who spread his thighs willingly for one who could just as easily slit his throat rather than kiss him.

Who could play in his blood rather than caress him. 

The thought shouldn’t turn him on, but Crocodile enjoyed a game of Russian Roulette, and no bullet—seastone or not—could compare to the danger Doflamingo possessed. Said man ran his tongue along his teeth, staring him down at him all the while. His cock was leaking so much, he was so slick as that bastard fisted his cock. Pinned down as he was, he couldn’t escape the overwhelming pleasure assaulting him in waves. He might very well come with those lethal digits alone.

“Fuck me,” he commanded, sucking in a deep breath as Doflamingo spread his fingers apart, rubbing up against such sensitive walls. “ _Don’t—_ ”

“Say please,” Doflamingo ordered, and Crocodile knew he needed to submit if they were to get anywhere. “You want it, Wani? Let me know how much you want my fucking cock.”

The string curled around his throat tightened, biting deep into his skin once again, enough to draw more trickles of blood. He gasped, apprehension flooding through him, but also arousal. He couldn’t, he needed... _fuck_.

“Fuck me, please,” he grit out, his voice strangled under the pressure of such a dangerous fruit. 

“Tell me that you need it,” Doflamingo added, removing his fingers so suddenly that Crocodile’s body jolted at such a loss. 

Crocodile groaned, the tip of Doflamingo’s cock pressing up against the entrance to his willing, waiting hole that dripped with copious amounts of lube and precome. A sheen layer of sweat coated his body, the slick slide between them causing him to try and grind against the other man, but to no avail. Doflamingo would not move forward until Crocodile did what he said. 

“I need it,” he said, barely above a whisper, his pupils dilated, eyes glazed over. His body felt as though it had been dosed in oil and set ablaze. Hot, too hot. 

“Louder.”

“ _I need it, you absolute fool!_ ” he exclaimed, tense with anger, flushed in his face, humiliation running through his veins, more potent than a shot of morphine. 

The reaction was instant. One moment, Doflamingo was pressed against him, the next, he was sheathed deep inside him without thought or hesitation. No consideration as to what Crocodile might endure, knowing full well that the other craved such disregard. 

He was not made of glass, after all. Not unless lightning struck sand.

The groan that tore forth from his throat made the string around his neck narrow even further, causing his breath to hinder, the oxygen fleeing his lungs. Doflamingo took notice, loosening it somewhat as he hooked Crocodile’s knees up over his broad shoulders, filling him completely until his hips rest flushed up against his ass, grinding slowly, repeatedly against his already sensitive prostate. He couldn't control the sounds he made, unable to mask his pleasure. Doflamingo peered down at him, his gaze unwavering and intent. Crocodile could hardly meet it, his lashes tickling his cheeks as his eyes remained half-lidded. 

The man didn’t even blink. 

“You feel so good,” he purred, pressing a soft kiss against Crocodile’s inner thighs before nipping at them, marking him—making him remember the other man long after this came to its ending...whatever that might be. “So good wrapped around my cock. You love it, right? How much bigger I am then you. I can pin you down and fill you up, stretch you out like no one else could.” 

Crocodile moaned at that, weak to such possession. The entire ordeal proved far from sane, but Crocodile did not need stability. Reared in chaos, he could only long for such a raging storm. 

A man he could kill, and who could kill him. A lover that one couldn’t fully trust, but wanted to see where that might lead them to. 

Who would conquer in the end?

Doflamingo didn’t wait for an answer, fucking him with merciless efficiency. The pistoning of his hips forced Crocodile’s body higher, strings cutting into his upper half, evoking more blood to pool at various points across his body; the tops of his shoulders, the bend of his arms. His stomach tensed with cuts in the divots of his hips, the smell of iron rich in the space occupied between them.

Crocodile could only keen at the pain that literally sliced through him, the sensation of being filled over and over again wiping away his present worries. Doflamingo ran his fingers through sweat-soaked hair, gripping tightly at the loose strands, forcing Crocodile’s face to peer up at him. In those unsettling eyes resided both love and devotion, obsession and possession...the desire to never let him go. 

Crocodile was forced to face it head-on, to sneer at him and his emotions even though he’d long since succumbed to such feelings himself whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew Doflamingo held a twisted sort-of love for him, the same twisted love he held for his so-called family. The only difference was that subtle manipulation did not work on him, and thus, Doflamingo had to force his will onto the other man. 

Loved him against his will. Fucked him senseless. Made his body crave no other save him. 

He allowed this, and this was the result. The end was nigh, and now Doflamingo craved the intimacy he’d been so denied over the years. The ever unyielding Crocodile foiling each and every plan he held for him, save one. 

Crocodile licked his lips, suddenly as dry as the deserts of Alabasta. His throat constricted, but this time it was due to a sudden rush of emotions. The blood pounding in his ears made it near impossible to hear, but he faced Doflamingo dead-on once again, except this time he revealed a glimpse of his true intent, unwilling to give anything further than that and his body.

A sacrificial lamb that enjoyed the slaughter. 

Doflamingo dragged a thumb along Crocodile’s scar, a tender touch that stood stark compared to all the rest. His face softened, and Crocodile wished for nothing more than to flee, but he couldn’t. A bird and his cage. 

The thought made him hot all over. Doflamingo didn’t give him time to dwell on the matter, resuming his bloodthirsty pace, keeping Crocodile wrapped tight with his strings and his desires all the while. He could only take it, and the idea alone was enough to make his sack tighten, the desire to come overwhelming. Doflamingo wrapped those duplicitous fingers around his cock once again, his hand gliding along his shaft with ease, his thumb teasing the vein that ran along the underside of his throbbing member. He couldn’t, wouldn’t last.

His orgasm took him by surprise, even though it shouldn’t. The weight of it unlike anything he’d experienced before as he choked out a startled cry, his hips rocking against Doflamingo’s for every last drop. He couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly, made it as intense as it proved to be, but he suspected it to be a combination of obsessive love and cruel proprietorship. He could no longer deny his true wants or needs in the wake of this event. This glimpse of a moment that wouldn’t last. 

Doflamingo released his hold on him, but it didn’t matter, Crocodile couldn’t move even if he truly wanted to. The other man leaned forward over top of him, sliding his tongue along the tarnished flesh of his throat, licking away the blood that seeped forth from the wounds he’d caused. Crocodile tilted his head back, his body shuddering under such ministrations. He continued a path down along his body, that warm tongue feeling like a hot iron against fresh cuts. Crocodile stared up at the ceiling above him, seduced by the fan that spun lackadaisical overhead. 

Once finished, Doflamingo produced a key that undid the shackle around Crocodile’s wrist. The sensation breathed new life into him, some of his energy returning, but he still felt bone weary, though he imagined it to be more mental than anything to do with him physically. Doflamingo’s hands ran up and down along his body, fingers prodding at open wounds, tender and vile in equal measures. 

“It’s all coming to an end,” he muttered, reaching over for his long forgotten cigar that resided on an ashtray located on the nightstand. Doflaming kept it there just for him. “You realize that, don’t you?”

“ _Fufufu_ , of course,” he said, his voice deep and rich as the smoke Crocodile exhaled from his lungs. “I’m getting my affairs in order as we speak.” 

Crocodile knew then that this was Doflamingo’s farewell to him. Whatever would come to pass might separate them forevermore. The thought irked him, his forgotten raged rearing its ugly head as he brought Doflamingo down for a searing kiss, biting his bottom lip until it openly bled.

If the bastard drank from him, it was only the fair to partake in the same ritual manner. 

“Don’t die.”

It was the closest he would ever come to saying, “I love you”. 


End file.
